


Virgil's second topiary lesson

by FallenFurther



Series: Episode related fics [3]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gardens & Gardening, Gen, buried treasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22437847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenFurther/pseuds/FallenFurther
Summary: Virgil mends a bridge with the groundskeeper and gets a further lesson in topiary.Set post Series 3 Episode 22 Buried Treasure
Series: Episode related fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612372
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Virgil's second topiary lesson

Virgil landed Tracy Two on the private runway and taxied her into the reserved area. He stepped off the plane into the cool morning air and sighed. He'd been looking forward to this day for a while. It was almost three months since the rescue had cause a sinkhole in the reclaimed land and he was looking forward to seeing it at its best again. He'd made sure they paid for the restoration of the area. The tunnel had been shored up to stop future cave-ins and the ground that had caved in had been covered over and a fresh topsoil added. It should look as it did before. 

Virgil was currently driving to the park to meet up with Mr Greene, the Groundskeeper. They'd kept in contact since his impromptu topiary lesson and Virgil had apologised profusely for what had happened to his shrubs. Thankfully the swift work to put the damage right, had put Virgil, and to some extent International Rescue, back in Mr Greene’s good books. Yesterday the new bushes had arrived, and Mr Greene had agreed to let Virgil join him in shaping them. Virgil parked up and headed over to where the groundskeeper was waiting for him. 

"I'm glad to see you didn't bring those machines with you." Mr Greene joked as he shook Virgil's hands. 

"Me too. Hopefully they'll stay safely in their hangers for the rest of the day. Now, let's see what we have to work with. What's the theme we have to stick to?" Virgil rubbed his hands together. He was ready for a busy creative day and couldn’t wait to get started. 

“It’s the same as before, seeing as no one got to see it last time, but thanks to your generous donation there’s more to do. They want three centrepieces for the area that got destroyed and an animal parade leading up to it. There are four trees and seven bushes that need to be shaped.”

“We’d better get to it then.”

Virgil followed Mr Greene along the sculpted paths that ran through the manicured lawns. There were birds in the trees and butterflies flying around the flowers, and with the wind and birdsong being the dominant sounds, it was peaceful. It was hard to believe that beneath their feet was centuries old rubbish and active mining! They stopped at a path that they would be focusing on. Looking down it, Virgil could see the lawn that had caved in last time he was there and the three large bushes that were to become the new centrepieces. Mr Greene stood and pointed to the trees as he spoke. 

“The animals along the path will be in pairs, one on each side. First will be the wolves and then the next will be meerkats. After that will be a bear with penguins at the front. The animals weren’t my choice, they were voted on by the local children.” Mr Greene clearly didn’t like the idea of penguins; he’d screwed his face up as he said the word. “The three centrepieces will be a giraffe, an elephant and a gorilla. We’ll start with the path. We’ll do one of each of the pairs, at the same time, so I can give you pointers and advice as we go along. Sound reasonable?”

“Yes.” Virgil smiled. There was a lot to do and he was nervously excited that his work was going to be displayed alongside that of a professional. He hoped the kids approved. 

Mr Greene had laid out the tools of the trade by the first bush, and Virgil climbed into the protective overall that had been provided. Picking up the shears he stood by the bush, ready to receive the instructions on how to best shape a wolf. Mr Greene gave him clear instructions, which Virgil followed, though he did give Virgil a little leeway, here and there, to put his own spin on things. Soon the wolves had taken shape, and they swapped to the secateurs to do the finer trimming and neatening. Once Mr Greene had given his wolf the once over, they swapped sides and started on meerkats. A simpler shape than the wolves, and with less leaves to trim away to reveal the animal, they were finished much quicker. Again, they swapped sides, and started on the bears. These were much bigger, and ladders were required to reach the tops. Mr Greene finished first and gave him encouragement from below. Virgil carefully snipped away at the top, shaping the ears and the snout. He wiped his brow on his sleeve as the sun’s glare warmed his brow. Once satisfied, he climbed down the ladder and let Mr Greene up to inspect his work. A few small cuttings, and his mentor was satisfied. 

“How about we break for lunch?” Mr Greene said as he reached the bottom of the ladder. “I’ve packed us a few bits which we can eat in the shade of the trees.”

Virgil’s stomach growled in response, his focus on his work having distracted him from his hunger. He hadn’t eaten anything since he’d left the island. 

“That sounds fantastic.”

Virgil followed Mr Greene down the path and further into the gardens. They headed into a hedged off area and he found himself in a secret garden with a large apple tree at its centre. Beneath the tree was a couple of cool boxes. Mr Greene sat down, opened one up and handed him a bottle of chilled water. Virgil took it gladly and gulped down the water. It’s cool touch on his parched lips was heavenly. Virgil plonked himself down by Mr Greene as the man passed him a box. Inside were ham and cheese sandwiches. 

“I’ve got some sandwich pickle in the cool box if you want some. Not everyone’s a fan, but I love a good bit of pickle in my sandwiches.”

“I’m good. My brother, Gordon, the blond one, is the big pickle fan in our family.” Virgil smiled as he bit into a sandwich, thinking of all the times he’d watched Gordon make one of his sandwiches. His brother always tried fit as much as possible between the slides of bread. As he ate, Mr Greene laid out mini-sausages, tomatoes, radishes, celery sticks and a sharing bag of crisps. Virgil tipped a few crisps into the box with his last sandwich and grabbed a few tomatoes, popping one in his mouth. He avoided the celery. Years of sitting next to Gordon crunching Celery Bars meant he’d gone off it. 

“How are you finding the topiary today? You’re doing very well for a beginner. You’ve a real eye for detail, and how you want the shape to be.”  
Virgil took the compliment with a smile, “It’s great. I love creating things. I paint, when I get the chance, and I find this is just another way of expressing and revealing the images that can form in your head. At least, that’s how it works for me. I see the image of the bear, you tell me how it should be standing, where its arms need to be, and I picture it in my head. Then it’s just working out how to translate that image into the bush. I’m loving the 3D aspect of it.”

Mr Greene chuckled, and it was strange but good to see the lightness in his face normally stern face. “You have a way with words young man! I wish others saw this like you do. When the area is open to the public, people waltz in with their phones in their hands, gaze and gape, take a few photos then move on. They barely stop to truly see what’s before them, and they certainly don’t think about all the effort that’s gone into it. It’s why you don’t get so many people doing it nowadays. It’s considered old-fashioned and a relic from the days of nobility.” Mr Greene sighed. 

Virgil sat back and thought about it. There were parts of it that made sense. As an artist he could appreciate the effort that goes into the production of a sketch or painting, and some of his brothers understood that. Yet when he dragged Alan to an art gallery, he’d whizz around it before getting bored, and Virgil was never quite sure how much the boy had taken in. 

“I can see where you’re coming from. But at least they are taking an interest and getting out of the city. This place is amazing, and even if they take just a little bit of that home with them, then we’ve done our job right.” Virgil ate another tomato before continuing, “and just look at this little garden. I’ll remember this moment forever. It’s secluded and peaceful, the flowers have been carefully chosen to highlight the area and bring your attention to exactly where it needs to be to highlight its beauty.”

Mr Greene sat a little straighter, “Well, I did try my best. It wasn’t easy, mind you, to convince the higher-ups to see my vision. But once people come here, they’ll trust me.”

They finished their meal, which was completed with homemade banana bread, while discussing artists and beautiful places. When all was eaten, they packed up and headed back to their bushes. Mr Greene passed Virgil a straw hat, to keep the sun off his neck and out his eyes, for which Virgil was grateful. They made light work of the penguins, and then they started on the centrepieces. Mr Greene asked him to get the basic outline for the elephant done, while he started on the gorilla, which was to stand in the middle. Virgil worked away, losing track of time. He finished his rough outline and got Mr Greene’s approval to continue. Trimming closer, he got out the secateurs and started clipping the detail into the ears and face. He smoothed out the body and trunk, making sure it curved in just the right way. Standing back, he gazed up at his handiwork. 

“Not bad. Not bad at all.” Mr Greene’s voice came from behind him. Virgil turned around, a contented grin on his face, and looked at Mr Greene. Except Virgil’s gaze fell on the bush behind the man. His jaw dropped. It was a male silverback gorilla, made entirely from one bush. Mr Greene had managed to sculpt most of it, and it was breath-taking in its detail. The hands were still a work in progress, but it was the face that caught his attention. The gorilla was gazing straight down the path and had such a dignified look on it’s face. 

“That good, huh? I have a soft spot for gorillas. Used to draw them all the time as a boy, and although I don’t do it much anymore, I still have that soft spot or the apes.”

“It’s incredible.” Virgil slowly walked around it, taking in the way it had been cut, trying to work out how it had appeared from the ordinary bush which has been there just hours previously. 

“Thank you. How about you try the giraffe? Be careful with the neck, that’s the tricky part. I’ll come join you once I’ve finished the hands, and we might get it all done before sundown.” 

Virgil nodded, not quite ready to take his eyes of the gorilla. With a renewed determination to master the art to that kind of level, Virgil walked towards the last untouched bush as made the first snip with the shears. Mr Greene soon joined him, and they made light work of it, and soon the giraffe appeared. True to his word, the sun was low in the sky when they had finished. Virgil slipped out of the overall and placed the shears, hat and secateurs into Mr Greene’s wheelbarrow. 

“I’ll clear up the cuttings tomorrow.” Mr Greene said as he picked up the cooler boxes and Virgil pushed the wheelbarrow towards the exit. When they reached the carpark, Virgil placed in down and shook Mr Greene’s hand. 

“Thank you so much for today. It was fantastic.”

“You’re welcome, young man, and if I need a hand or inspiration, I know who to call.” Mr Greene gave Virgil a smile before heading off towards the groundskeeper’s shed. Virgil sat in the car; his body was exhausted. It definitely wasn’t safe to fly, and he was thankful he had planned to stay the night in a hotel. A quick call to John to confirm everyone was okay, and he drove off. A shower and some clean clothes and Virgil lay in the bed with his sketchpad. Despite the exhaustion, he sketched a few different views of the secret garden, though his favourite was the view from under the tree. He added a few extra details to it before yawning. Another yawn and Virgil knew he was done for the night. He placed the pad on the bedside table, pulled the covers over himself and turned off the light. His mind was full of flowers, gardens and shaped bushes which he knew would fill his dreams. He closed his eyes and hoped there were no callouts tomorrow. He wanted to start on his painting of the secret garden, hoping to permanently capture its beauty in paint.


End file.
